Can't Hardly Breathe (The Original Heartbreakers #4)

What was he going to do about it? What could he do?

He needed to clear his head. To think. “I’m taking off, Dad. Gonna take a little time.”

“Great. But before you go, son, do us all a favor and pull your head out of your ass.”

Nice. “I’ll do my best.” Daniel called the dogs, but they ignored him in favor of tugging at his dad’s shoelaces.

He loped down the street all by his lonesome. When he turned the corner, his chest started aching again. Thea! She was jogging toward him.

This was his first real-time sighting since the breakup, and his body reacted without a command from his brain. His legs stopped working, his muscles going from lax to clenched in point two seconds. Thea stopped, too. Even across the distance, he could see the dark circles under her eyes—eyes that were filled with a hundred different emotions. The front-runners were regret, sorrow, anguish and hope. Her skin was pale, and there were tangles in her hair. Her nails were bare again, and the lack of polish bothered him.

Only a second passed, but at least ten different scenarios about how this could play out whisked through his mind. His favorite? She threw her arms around him, covered his face with kisses and promised never to chase another storm.

Her dark curls were pulled back in a ponytail, and her beautiful curves encased in a tank and running shorts. Loyal Thea, as faithful to her run as her mailman was to delivering her mail. Come rain, sleet, hail or sunshine, she’d be trekking the sidewalks.

Thea didn’t approach him. Instead, she raised her chin and kicked back into motion.

His hope withered to ash.

Say something. Tell her you love her. Win her back!

And send her off during the next storm?

He moved forward at a clipped pace, his heart desperately trying to leap from his chest...and passed her without saying a word.





CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

THE FIRST DAY of the spring festival arrived. As a kid, Dorothea had awoken on this day with a smile, knowing she would soon be enjoying fried desserts of every kind and hopefully winning a giant stuffed toy. Today, she hadn’t awoken at all because she hadn’t gone to sleep. She’d stayed up all night crying.

Daniel had finally been spotted, and he hadn’t cared enough to even say hi. He’d washed his hands of her.

Not good enough to keep him.

No. She refused to believe that. The breakup had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with his fears of losing someone else. And that had been his problem all along.

She remembered the night she’d spent at the Scratching Post, dancing with Ryanne and Lyndie. Jude had shown up at some point and cornered her. She’d been buzzed, but his first words had sobered her up in a hurry.

“You want Daniel, you’re going to have to fight for him.”

She’d bristled with indignation. “Why can’t he fight for me? When is it my turn to be the prize?”

“You are a prize. He’s miserable without you.”

Was he? “Good!”

“He’s afraid of losing you, and your desire to chase storms has only exasperated that fear.”

“If he allows that fear to dictate his decisions, then he’s not worth fighting for.”

Jude had left her in a huff, mumbling under his breath about fools too stubborn to see the gift they’d been given.

After she’d spent the night throwing up in a toilet, wishing Daniel had been there to hold her hair and bathe her and tell her everything would be all right, she’d actually considered going to him. Then she’d thought, What the heck? I’ll do it! When they’d ended things, they’d both been driven by adrenaline and fury. They needed to talk, and if he was as miserable as she was, maybe they could work things out.

But halfway to his dad’s house, she’d realized her mistake. She could fight for him, but she couldn’t fight his fears for him. They could get back together, but their relationship would still be fractured, and they’d end up splitting again.

Now Dorothea crawled out of bed and into the shower. Hot water sluiced over her but failed to melt the ice that had taken up residence in her bones. Have to let Daniel go. For real and for good.

She would have fun today, dang it. The inn was filled to capacity, every room but the theme room taken—it still wasn’t done. Towels, soaps and snacks had been set up in the dining room, and Mrs. Hathaway would be sleeping at the counter, just in case.

When Holly had passed out flyers containing a pledge not to hurt anyone who interviewed for the reception position, four other people had applied for the job.

Dorothea knew the second she made a hire, any hope of Daniel coming back would die.

It needs to die.

Fighting tears, she dressed, applied sunscreen and lip gloss, and dried her hair on the lowest, coolest setting. Less frizz and softer curls that way. She’d come to embrace who she was. She may not possess the standard beauty, but she was beautiful.

Purple nails. Perfect.

With a nod at her reflection, she exited the bathroom, intending to find her sister and mom and head to the festival. But she had no need to search—both Holly and Carol sat on the roof, drinking hot chocolate and whispering worriedly.

Dorothea sat beside her sister and confiscated her mug, taking a sip, moaning with delight. Warm chocolate was the ultimate indulgence.

“What are you guys talking about?” she asked. As if she couldn’t guess.

“Virgil called me,” Carol said. “Daniel is at the festival with his friends.”

Holly rested her head on Dorothea’s shoulder. “We can spend the day here. Yeah. Let’s spend the day here. I’m afraid if I see him, I’ll murder him. Save me from a life in jail.”

Her heart squeezed painfully, but she patted the top of her sister’s hand. “No murders today. We can’t allow the actions of someone else to dictate ours. We’re going, and we’re behaving.”

Since the festival was held in the town square, all they had to do was walk outside the inn, and they were in the thick of the activities. Booths had been set up along both sides of the street. The food trucks she’d dreamed about were intermixed with a thousand different games, each one incorporating strawberries in some way.

She saw people she knew and people she didn’t. Though she didn’t feel like smiling and waving, she did both.

“Look! Gourmet doughnuts!” Holly twittered with excitement. “Do you think they have anything with coconut?”

“Let’s find out.”

Arm in arm, they made their way to the truck in question and took a place at the end of the line. A few minutes later, she heard a familiar male voice behind her and stiffened.

“Well, this isn’t awkward at all.” Brock.

A grumble from Jude was the only response, but Dorothea felt a hot gaze on her back. Tensing with dread, she turned—

And came face-to-face with Daniel.

He and his friends had taken the spot directly behind her, and as they stared at her, her heart thudded against her ribs. The sun, which had so lovingly embraced her when she’d exited the inn, suddenly deep-fried every inch of her.